


Playing The Odds

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 19:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14722046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: They were gamblers, each and every one of them.  They knew how to calculate the odds, figure the spread, when to bet and when to hold firm.  They were intelligent, cunning and knew each other inside and out.  They knew there were certain things they could always bet on: Chief's skill with a knife, Casino's ability to get into a fight at the drop of a hat, Actor's always knowing a beautiful woman wherever they went, and Goniff?  Well, betting on their pickpocket's clumsiness and naivete in every area other than his chosen field, especially where women were concerned?  They'd never go wrong there.  They weren't about to pass on the opportunity to test their skill against each other, not in this new arena where just about anything could happen!





	Playing The Odds

They'd been intending to go to the pub, making the most of the pitiful three days they had between getting back from one mission and heading out for the next one, but when they arrived at the Cottage to see if she wanted to join them, Meghada had a pot of stew simmering and fresh bread just out of the oven, a couple of cherry pies on the sideboard, and a new bottle of bourbon and another of whiskey in the cupboard, and they had decided that, hey, they could drink and play cards here just as well as at the pub. Garrison had figured he'd probably come out way ahead, not just the price of the drinks his men would con him into buying, but also the damages they were likely to rack up at the pub; here, they weren't going to start anything messy he was pretty sure. So he gave in with no real opposition to her smiling invitation; besides, that stew smelled damned good!

So they'd had a good meal, and now the table was cleared and the cards ready to be dealt. Goniff had been chattering, back at the Mansion and all the way over about a certain little problem he'd noticed, and how he intended to resolve it, and the guys had found his chattering more interesting than his usual nattering-ons. Casino and Chief had snickered at the pickpocket's problem and his notion of an appropriate remedy, and Actor and Garrison had just shared amused looks, both pretty sure how it was all going to turn out. No one figured his odds were good, though opinions varied as to just how bad they really were and what might impact those odds, and the final result of all that thinking he'd been doing. Sometimes their second-story man's thinking was a tad simplistic, not to mention downright naive, and when you factored in the Dragon and her uncertain temper and sometimes unconventional way of looking at things, well, it was more than a bit chancy in their minds.

Now, as they were getting settled, Goniff was the only hold-out for the game, at least for now, since he wanted to get a start at resolving that little problem of his. "Get it over and done, mates, then can join you for the next 'and, ei?" he told them in a breezy confident manner, and the men exchanged amused and rather doubtful looks. Meghada had begged off the first hand in order to get some music organized for her sisters to pick up the next day. Somehow, who knows how or why, when discussing whether it would be standard draw poker, or seven card stud, or what, it was decided to try a different version of the game for a change, at least til the other two joined them. Actor had poured out a good splash of liquor for each of them, and in very low voices, not to disturb Meghada in her thinking, knowing Goniff was already doing more than enough of that, they had quickly discussed the upcoming game, decided on all the particulars.

Craig Garrison didn't usually let himself relax to this extent, but it did feel good for a change, and although this new game certainly wasn't his usual style of entertainment, still, he thought it might be just the kind of foolishness he needed to take his mind off that last frustrating confrontation with the Brass and that upcoming mission. So he settled in to enjoy the evening to the fullest, listen to the ever more complicated set of betting rules and guidelines being enacted, and let Actor pour him another glass of the quite-good whiskey, thanking him with a genial nod. Garrison felt he had a pretty good shot at taking the pot; after all, he was a trained strategist and careful observer. Yeah, his chances were pretty good! Maybe pay him back at least a little for all the damages he'd had to cover down at the pub last month!

Garrison was sitting at the kitchen table now, along with Actor, Chief and Casino, deck of cards sitting in front of them, seven cards in front of each of them, buy-in of five dollars each thrown casually to the center. That table seemed to be the gathering point of choice here at the Cottage, really the only spot where they could all comfortably be together. The library/office was crowded and had just the one desk chair; the sitting room had the two arm chairs and the piano bench but no other seating except for the floor. None of them would have had the temerity to suggest they use her bedroom, and besides, there was just the bed, a chair and dressing table and bench in there, so it wouldn't have done them any good anyway.

Goniff was still in the sitting room pestering Meghada, who was sorting through the sheet music and listening to him chatter away, occasionally responding, and the guys were listening as well, glancing from one to the other with amusement or speculation or satisfaction, depending on which way the overheard conversation was going. Conversations between those two were more often than not at least amusing, if not hilarious, though not always intentionally so on either person's part. How two such totally different people ever got together was a mystery to the whole team, and as Casino expressed it on more than one occasion, "kinda like watching a canary and a crocodile cuddlin up to each other, ya know??" referencing the redhead's well earned Special Forces code name of 'The Dragon' and her admittedly volatile disposition compared to Goniff's cheery, harmless and slightly hapless mischievious nature. In between, the men focused on the game, all the bets, variations, corners and one-offs, all that made the game more interesting, the final outcome more unpredictable. It had gotten pretty complicated by the time it was all in place, and they'd take the precaution of writing it all down, just in case.

Casino tipped the bottle around the table again, and Garrison thought about waving it away, but with a shrug just let the safecracker fill his glass along with everyone else's. {"I should really do this more often; I know what HQ would say about fraternizing with the guys, but this is a hell of a lot more enjoyable than listening to the Brass preen and prance and puff off their own self-importance. And the whiskey's better too!"} Between the warm room, the excellent hot meal, that cherry pie, and now the liquor, the young officer now had a very relaxed smile on his face, and the others at the table were pretty much in the same condition. Meanwhile, in the next room . . .

"I'm thinkin of bringing you back some of that Frenchy perfume next time we're over there, 'Gaida. They've got some w'at smells real nice, you know."

"I know they do, laddie, and it's a sweet thought, it is, but I'm not so much a one for wearing perfumes and such; never have been, really, and if I have to head out on a mission, it's hard to scrub off at the last minute. Can't have Jerry sniffing Chanel No 5 while I'm trying to sneak up on them, you know. And you don't need to be thinking about any of that when you're on a mission anyway; I'd rather you focus on getting back safely. That's the best present I could be getting. But I appreciate the thought, I truly do."

There was a shuffling sound, and Casino turned his head to the left and peeked into the sitting room, really just an adjoining space, no wall or even half wall in between, though one of the big armchairs turned with its back to the kitchen and a long breakfront and a small table formed a visual separation. Goniff was perched on the arm of one of the big chairs, Meghada just settling back on the piano bench, music spread over the top of it and of the sideboard, another stack in her hand, just returned from dropping a kiss on that wide forehead, as evidenced by Goniff's still uptilted head and sappy smile on his face. Casino pushed a couple of bills into the center of the table and Actor followed suit.

"Got some nice stuff in the shops up in London too; lavenders and heathers and rose-smelling stuff. Bet you'd like that." He was getting more of her attention now, him not usually being that eagerly persistant, well, not over anything as foolish as this.

"It might suit better than the French perfumes, I'll admit, not so risky to acquire certainly, but you know, Goniff, I really think you should save your money for something else, something for yourself, your mum, maybe; and, like I said, I really don't make much use of things like that." A small disappointed sigh from Goniff, along with the admission, "well, wasn't really intending to spend money on it, you know; easy enough to snaffle."

That got a little snort from everyone at the table, and a fond but discouraging word from Meghada. Garrison thumbed through the cards in front of him, and threw a five dollar bill onto the table on top of Casino's two singles. Actor threw three singles into the pot, and Chief did the same.

"Just thought you might like to go about smelling of something other than the garden or the baking sometimes; and that soap you use don't have any smell at all I can tell, can always smell you underneath it." Actor winced and braced himself as if for a blow. While there were worse ways of saying that, he supposed, shuddering to think of some the little Cockney might have used, there was also a multitude of better ways! To his mind it conveyed rather the wrong impression, since he'd never known the young woman to have any disagreeable scent to her, well, other than on a mission and not any more than any of them certainly. That one mission came to mind: a garbage truck was not a respecter of any individual, female or not.

A rather amused voice (to Actor, a very surprisingly amused voice) came to them softly from the next room, "are you saying YOU'D be happier if I wore scent, maybe I can use some spritzing up?"

The men looked at Actor who was trying to look off into the clouds, but seemed to realize that wasn't working. He frowned in disgust and picked through his cards, glanced at the sheet of paper laying there that listed all the various bets and variations, carefully laying another five dollar bill on the pile of money growing in the center of the table.

"Well, didn't want to come right out and say it," came the reluctant voice, and the men now shared a wince of shared pain at where the discussion was going. Casino was the only one who added in money at this point, another two singles.

"I think it best if you do, just say it right out, though," and the female voice was just a bit crisp. A deep sigh and then an earnest, very sincere Cockney voice did explain.

"See, when I come back from a mission or sometimes London, or maybe just the pub, sometimes, just by accident, you know, I just might 'ave just a 'int of perfumey stuff about me, you see? And seems to me that might cause you to be getting the wrong idea. And your getting the wrong idea might kinda, well, distract you from us enjoying our time together. So I just thought . . ."

Chief shook his head in total disgust, and tossed two fives on the pile, and each of the others gave a silent groan and followed suit. The voice answering him was rather breathless, perhaps a bit higher pitched than before.

"Ah, well, there is that, I suppose." The emotion behind that was a little difficult to decipher, though they each had their own idea of what it might be. None of them dared glance into the sitting room at this point. There was a significant pause.

"So you thought if I was wearing perfume, I'd be less likely to notice that you've got the smell of perfume about you as well, so I wouldn't be distracted, and have your visit spoiled. Is that what you're saying then, Goniff??" all in a slow, thoughtful, deliberate sort of a voice.

"THAT'S it, 'Gaida! See, I KNEW you'd understand!"

Actor peered over Garrison's shoulder, at that totally innocent, joyously beaming face of their perhaps soon-to-be-deceased teammate, and exchanged incredulous looks with the Lieutenant. Every man at the table gave an inaudible, well more or less inaudible, groan and threw another bill onto the stack, this one of slightly higher denomination. They were all listening carefully now, well, even more carefully, since that conversation had maintained their considerable interest from the beginning.

"And you thought that was a better idea than you trying very, very hard not to get someone else's perfume on you in the first place?" That voice was obviously trying very hard to remain level and calm, but there was a quaver in it that told just how much self-control that was taking.

Garrison realized he possibly needed to re-evaluate the IQ of his second-story man, maybe take another look at the medical charts to see if that last concussion might have been more severe than they'd thought, especially when Goniff popped back with, "well, seemed more likely that way. Things do just kinda 'appen, you know."

Another four singles hit the pot from every player, bringing the pot to an extremely respectible one.

"Hmmm, yes, I think I understand quite well now," followed, in a remarkably dry voice.

Casino took an uneasy glance around the kitchen, thinking of where he could dodge if things started flying. Garrison was starting to feel a little vulnerable with his back to the sitting room and he was uncomfortably aware that the whiskey he'd consumed wouldn't add to his agility if he had to move fast.

There was a long silence from the next room, then the female voice started again, this time in a lower slightly husky tone, "you know, laddie, I think there's a much better way to deal with this. Instead of me wearing scent, or even you worrying about getting scent on you, why don't we just try really, really hard to concentrate on not getting distracted?" The voice deepened even more, getting a rich and lush dark honey'd feel to it, "I'll bet there are just any number of things we might find intriguing enough we'd not be able to be distracted from even by a whole sprinkling of scent, ummm?"

A brief pause, then a slightly breathless, "reckon you're right there, 'Gaida. That now, that'd do for starters, I think!" and a chuckle from her that wouldn't have been out of place coming from Marlene Dietrich at her most sultry.

Then a record started playing on the phonograph, not loud, but loud enough to successfully mute any further conversation or anything else for that matter, and a uncharacteristic snort of laughter came from Chief as he reached out and scooped the pot, winner take all. While that may have garnered him dirty looks from the three others playing the game, he consoled himself by silently calculating his take.

Luckily he was successful in keeping his thoughts equally silent - {"Even splittin fifty fifty with Goniff, not a bad haul,"} taking a quick satisfied look around the table.

They all focused on another glass of whiskey and small talk til Goniff and the redhead finally joined them, cheeks lightly flushed, Cheshire cat grin on his face, hers more reminiscent of the Mona Lisa.

It wasn't til the early pre-dawn hours, waking from a deep sleep induced by that final glass of whiskey that Craig Garrison stared at the ceiling and realized they'd been soundly, thoroughly and most decisively had! He wondered how long it would take before Actor and Casino caught on, what they'd come up with to adequately punish Chief and Goniff for that setup and debacle, and laughed quietly to himself. {"Yeah, master strategist, keen observer, that's me!"}

He did wonder, just for a moment, whether Meghada had been in on the con; with her, odds were pretty well even-on. And that very quiet little interlude in the sitting room that produced those ever-so-smug smiles, those flushed faces, that just made him squirm just a little bit. Surely that had been part of the con, too, surely! Surely they hadn't really . . . Not in the sitting room right next door . . . They couldn't have! Could they?


End file.
